


alight, tonight

by limnence



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Horny Tender, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rule 63, hansol is part of the drumline, vague college football au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limnence/pseuds/limnence
Summary: When Mingyu corners her after the game, Hansol is almost expecting it. There’s something about football games, the rush of adrenaline, the high of a cheering crowd, the knowledge that his girlfriend is in the stands, that does it for him. He’s left buzzing after, hands alight with energy.
Relationships: Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Kim Mingyu
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58
Collections: mingyu gets pegged





	alight, tonight

**Author's Note:**

> if you know who you are, this is for you, even if it's not exactly the curse you threw my way <3

When Mingyu corners her after the game, Hansol is almost expecting it. There’s something about football games, the rush of adrenaline, the high of a cheering crowd, the knowledge that his girlfriend is in the stands, that does it for him. He’s left buzzing, hands alight with energy. 

Hansol is more than willing to indulge him, laughing into his eager mouth. Mingyu kisses her sweetly—and then not so sweetly—to the wolf whistles of his teammates. They’re right next to the locker rooms. Hansol had packed up her snare drum and returned it to the music building along with her uniform, coming back just in time to see Mingyu step out of the door, hair still dripping water from his shower.

“Congratulations,” Hansol says, breaking the kiss to smile up at him. “Conference champions.”

Mingyu’s grin in return is blinding. “Thank you. I think Coach nearly popped a vein when Seungcheol-hyung scored that last touchdown.”

“I would have understood,” Hansol says. She loops her arms around his waist. “You guys have been training for this for an entire year now.”

Mingyu’s fingers tap on her back where his arms are still resting over her shoulders. A little pattern of connection. He's got energy in spades, despite having just played four quarters and Hansol admires the way his biceps flex for a second. Football season makes Mingyu unreasonably buff, she’s learned. Hansol likes it. They go to the gym together and spot for each other on lifts.

“I don’t know what to do now,” Mingyu says, bouncing on his toes. “Are you coming to the party after?”

Hansol isn’t generally fond of parties—too loud, too bright, too many people she doesn’t know—but she does like going to parties with Mingyu. 

As if to persuade her further, Mingyu looks over her shoulder. “Seokmin told me he was coming too.”

Hansol smiles at that, looking over her shoulder as well to where Seokmin is sitting next to Minghao. “Of course I’m coming. We have to do something to celebrate your win.”

Mingyu, paradoxically, blushes at that. There’s something about him, confident right up until he’s pink down to his collarbones, that makes her want to… she’s not quite sure. Only that fondness is an unnamable tide and Mingyu has always, always been like the sea. 

“Sure,” he says. “I didn’t really have anything planned though.”

“You can figure it out on the way,” she says. “Whatever you want, you’ve earned it.”

Mingyu hums a moment before reaching down to grab his bag. “Do you want a ride?” he asks.

Hansol only has to consider it for a moment before she nods. “Sure, just let me say goodbye to the rest of the drumline.”

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes to find the rest of the drumline and wave goodbye. Then she’s climbing into the passenger seat of Mingyu’s old car. The seats are well worn and the interior always smells a little like air freshener. She watches the streetlights outside flick past in the early night, the window cracked just a bit to let in a cool breeze. 

They don’t say much on the way over, but Hansol has never minded. She values their silences just as much as their easy conversation. When Mingyu starts asking her about the latest band they had gotten introduced to the weekend before, Hansol smiles.

The party, when they get to it, is _loud._ Hansol can see people spilling out onto the lawn, loose limbed and drunk with the win their team had been working towards for months. She thinks that this might be Seungcheol’s house.

Mingyu takes her hand when they get out of the car for a second, the touch fleeting as they get up to the door. Once inside, they split up by mutual agreement. Hansol likes to find the music immediately in a place like this, and Mingyu likes to make a tour of the house, looking for his friends. 

They meet back up on the dancefloor, Mingyu with a red solo cup, Hansol with her flannel shirt tied around her waist, her tank top leaving her shoulders exposed. Whoever chose the music had good taste and better speakers—the bass sets her bones to buzzing. The smell of cheap beer and night air blows through the house and out the open windows.

“Hi,” Mingyu says. He’s leaning in close to be heard over the music.

“What’s up?” Hansol asks, giddy with the atmosphere. She hooks one of her thumbs through his jean loops, just because she can, just because he’s close.

“I know what I want,” Mingyu says into her ear, swaying vaguely with the beat. His eyes are clear when he pulls back though. Clear and— bright. Excited. He leans back in so his breath brushes the curve of her ear. “I want you to fuck me.”

The words are like swallowing lightning. Hansol is the one to pull back this time, looking at Mingyu’s face again. It’s not something new to them, but it is the first time Mingyu’s brought it up so confidently. Brazen, almost. 

She leans closer, matching his movements until they’re swaying together. “If that’s what you want?” The words are a statement and a question in one.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says, and the way he looks at her— Hansol could hardly deny him.

“When we get back to my place,” she says. For a second, she brings the finger looped through his jeans up to brush at the skin of his waist, exposed where his shirt has ridden up a little bit. “Dance with me?”

Mingyu swallows what’s left in his cup, licks his lips, and agrees.

The rest of the night seems to pass by in a blur. Neither of them drink anything else, but the atmosphere of the party goes to Hansol’s head like nothing else. Seokmin is there as promised, as are several of Hansol’s other friends, and she spends hours laughing. The glow of victory, and more than that, of being with people she loves, fills her chest with light.

They make their excuses early and Mingyu drives them back to her place, their hands intertwined over the stick shift. 

When they get inside, Hansol drops her keys on the table and stretches so tall she feels her spine pop back into place. Carrying a snare drum isn’t the same as carrying a 40 pound bass drum, but it’s still an ache. 

“Make yourself at home,” she tells Mingyu. “Chan’s staying with her girlfriend this weekend, so we have the place to ourselves.”

Mingyu takes off his jacket and grins. “How’s she holding up with the scholarship?”

“She’s doing good,” Hansol says. One of her hands rakes back her short hair and she makes a face. Mingyu might have gotten a chance to shower, but she hasn’t since before the game. She feels slightly disgusting. “Let me take a shower real quick, I’m kinda stinky.”

Mingyu dips down to give her a quick peck—something that detours to being more than a quick peck quickly—and tangles his fingers in the short hair at the nape of her neck. “Sure,” he murmurs. “Come back quick.”

Hansol kisses his cheek and heads off to the shower. The warm water relaxes her muscles even further, easing a tension she hadn’t even realized was there. When she steps out again, it’s with sweatpants low on her hips, and a towel around her neck to stop her hair from dripping onto her sports bra. 

It’s a short trip to her room. Mingyu is already stretched out on her bed, jeans folded and set on the floor. There’s something about the way he’s sitting—just a little flushed, hair askew—that makes her pause, but it’s quickly pushed aside when Mingyu holds his arms up, asking wordlessly for a kiss. 

She’s more than happy to oblige. Hansol pulls him up until he’s sitting, putting them nearly at a height and kisses him, leaning into the feeling. Mingyu nips at her bottom lip and she runs an appreciative hand down his arm. They spend minutes like that, trading lazy kisses in the dim light of her room. The bedside lamp casts soft shadows over their bodies.

Hansol feels warm warm warm, lazy like honey, like her bones are made of molten gold. When she finally inches Mingyu’s shirt over his chest, it’s to run a hand down his chest, a thumb over one of his nipples, until her fingers are once again brushing at the waistband of his boxers. With the heel of her palm, she applies gentle pressure to the tented fabric, feeling where he’s already hard and straining. 

“Congratulations,” she says again, humming with delight. Mingyu is already ever so slightly pink, and gets more so when Hansol reaches into his boxers to pull out his dick. “You were amazing out there,” she says.

“You were too,” Mingyu says, breaking off with a groan. Hansol grabs the lube—already conveniently out—and slicks up her hand, wrapping it around his length. “I snuck out to see part of the halftime show, it was incredible.”

Briefly, Hansol shakes her head, fondness once again washing over her. It’s a deep current, leading her out to sea, out to where words like _love_ float by like ships in the night. “Weren’t you supposed to be planning your strategy? Did you miss your huddle?”

“Not really,” Mingyu says. By which Hansol can hear— _I figured out how to make it work_. He kisses her again then, hands working slowly at her sports bra as she jerks him off. 

She’s tempted to drop to her knees—Hansol is _good_ at sucking dick and eating pussy alike, enjoys the time, the effort, the way she can make people fall apart with just her hands and her mouth. She doesn’t. Mingyu asked for something else. Hansol can suck his dick another time.

Mingyu sighs into her mouth as she runs a thumb over the head of his cock. When he finally gets her bra off, Hansol breaks the kiss for a second to shrug it off her arms. 

“Hold on a second,” she says, walking over to her dresser to pull out her harness and the two different silicone dicks that go with it. “What are you feeling tonight?”

Mingyu thinks for a second before pointing to the purple one, flared a little at the base, curved at the tip. They’ve only done this a couple times, but Hansol has found she can get the best sort of angle with it, press right on his prostate until he screams. 

Getting on the harness is always a little bit unsexy. She shimmies out of her sweatpants and pulls it tight around her ass and turns back, looking at Mingyu. He’s looking at her already, something simmering in his eyes, hungry.

Hansol takes a moment to appreciate that Mingyu has already laid out a towel before she flops back into bed, pulling him over her. This is another thing she appreciates about Mingyu—how broad he is, how safe he makes her feel when he’s covering her with his body. 

They kiss for long molasses minutes and Hansol cups a hand around Mingyu’s chin, licking into his mouth like she can still taste the fruit punch he had at the party. Eventually, Mingyu rolls them over and Hansol fumbles for the lube. It’s dropped all the way to the floor while she wasn’t looking, and she laughs picking it up.

She’s not laughing when she turns back to the bed. Mingyu is lying on his back, and there, nestled snugly into him, is a butt plug. Several things click together at once: the fact that he didn’t try to shower with her, the ruffled way he looked when she walked in, the lube already being out.

“You…” she trails off, absentmindedly slicking up her dildo. Looking at him like that touches off sparks in her. Sparks and embers and entire sunbursts.

Mingyu smirks at her, even as he reaches down to pull the plug out. It pops free with a wet noise, and the edges of his expression go ever so slightly tight. “Me,” he says in return. Mingyu likes to be appreciated just as much as he likes doing things for others.

“You’re so hot,” Hansol says, getting back on the bed, kneeling between his thighs. “I’m so lucky.” And there— the red at his ears again. She runs both hands down the flat planes on his stomach, thumbs curling around his hip bones. It’s a heady feeling. Her stomach burns hot. She can feel slick dripping out next to the straps of her harness. “Every time is really—”

Here, words fail her. She’s never been good at saying everything she means all at once. She bends down instead, and sucks a mark into Mingyu’s thigh, inching upward until she hits his ass. She bites that too, just because it deserves it, and slicks up two fingers with lube.

Mingyu is trembling beneath her, his hands fisted in the sheets. She can see the way he wants to squirm, the way he’s holding himself back. There’s a patchy blush down his collarbones, blood running hot. 

Hansol pushes a finger, then two, into him. There’s barely any resistance, and when she looks up at Mingyu, he has his head thrown back. The line of his throat bared. 

“This ok?” she asks, scissoring her fingers open, stroking at his walls with the pads of them. 

Mingyu makes a high, breathless noise when she fucks her fingers back and forth a couple of times. She adds another finger and it goes just as easily. “Yeah, yeah. You can fuck me, please, I’m ready for it.” He hooks a foot around the back of her hip and tries to tug her forward, bucking into the pressure of her fingers at the same time.

Hansol reaches up and pulls over a pillow, wedging it underneath him. It’s not a perfect angle, but it’s good. She lines up the head of her strap, teasing even as Mingyu tries to push up into it.

“We’re celebrating you, let me do the work,” Hansol says, holding his hip down. She can keep him there with strength alone, which seems to do something for Mingyu. He stops wiggling around and stares up at her, pupils blown wide.

“Ok,” he chokes out. 

“Good,” Hansol says. She lines up again and slides in slowly, inch by inch. She takes the hand off his hip, trusting him to keep himself in place.

Mingyu’s eyes flutter shut and he makes a high, punched out noise. Hansol flexes her hips a little, rocking back and forth. The slide is easy from all the lube, and Mingyu’s hips twist beneath her, letting himself take it.

“Tell me when you’re good,” she says, content to wait like this. The pressure of her harness sits deliciously over her folds, pressing into where she’s already wet and dripping.

“Mmmm,” Mingyu says. Hansol can feel the way he’s flexing around the dildo from the way it pulls a little where it’s attached to her body. It doesn’t take long before the motions of his hips are rolls, unable to resist trying to get her strap deeper in his body. “I’m ready, come on come on.”

Hansol smiles, leans down to kiss him, and pulls part way out. As she pushes back in, she fucks her tongue in at the same time, one thumb swiping over his cheek. 

It always takes a couple strokes to get used to the strap again. It’s something Hansol has used with girlfriends in the past before, but Mingyu’s the first guy she’s fucked regularly. In the end it’s not that different, the strange feeling of moving something she can’t quite feel, juxtaposed against the way he nearly begs for it. 

“Please please please,” Mingyu says, and other words, all tangled around his tongue. Hansol thinks she can almost feel the way he’s clenching around her. Sensation phantom-like. 

“I’ve got you,” she says. The base of the dildo presses up against her clit for a moment, and Hansol moans at the rush of warmth it provokes. She can feel more slick dripping down the side of her thighs. For a second, she can’t help the snap of her hips, seeking more of that sensation. Mingyu _keens._

He pulls one of his legs up to give her a better angle, and Hansol stretches herself down to kiss him briefly. The hand not holding herself up comes between them to play with one of his nipples.

She keeps the roll of her hips steady, speeding up as they both adjust. When she hits a particularly good angle and Mingyu whines, Hansol keeps at it, long, deep strokes that leave him trembling beneath her. 

Mingyu throws an arm over his face and Hansol can just see the way his mouth hangs open. She reaches out and pulls it away, kissing the palm of his hand. It leaves his entire expression open, and she savors the way he looks at her, some unnamed emotion heavy in his eyes.

“You look good, Mingyu,” she says. Hansol has always been honest to a fault, for better or for worse, and Mingyu seems to hear the truth of her admiration. 

Maybe he hears it too in the way she can't help but touch him, hand on his hip, mouth to his skin, eyes on him as he starts to shake apart.

His hands are on her too, one playing with one of her tits, another resting easy on her thigh. Hansol feels like she’s made of firelight, hungry and bright all at once. They keep moving together, a shower of sparks blooming in her stomach whenever the strap presses against her just right. 

She’s not overly concerned about her pleasure though. This is about Mingyu.

Beneath her, his eyes are fluttering shut, the line of his collarbones standing out against his skin. Hansol leans down to bite a bruise into the skin of his shoulder and he shudders.

“Hansollie,” he says, name swooping from his mouth. “I’m close.”

Hansol can feel the proof of his words beneath her palms, tightness spreading from his toes to his fingertips, tension like a coiled spring. She runs her hand through the slickness between them and wraps it around his dick, twisting it on every upstroke. It doesn’t take much more before he’s coming, painting white over his stomach.

Mingyu is _loud_ when he comes, and not for the first time, Hansol is glad they have thick walls. She fucks him gently through it, one hand running down his side. “I’ve got you. I've got you."

He’s trembling by the time he’s through, eyes shut with satisfaction. Hansol pulls out slowly. While Mingyu takes a second to recover, she takes off the harness, making sure to clean it all thoroughly. Another minute to go into the bathroom and retrieve a damp cloth, and she’s back in the bedroom. 

She turns off the bedside light as she goes, the only remaining illumination coming from the streetlights outside.

Mingyu is laying on his side and she throws him the damp cloth. He catches it with a grin and wipes up the mess on his chest and thighs. “Thanks,” he says.

“No problem,” Hansol says. When he pulls her in for a kiss she responds eagerly, running a gentle hand through his hair.

“Can I…?” Mingyu asks, one of his broad palms coming over to trace circles over her hipbone. 

The fire in Hansol’s stomach, momentarily forgotten, rouses itself at this. They’re so close they’re breathing the same air. “This was about celebrating your win,” Hansol says, laughing a little.

“Please?” Mingyu asks. “Please let me eat you out.” 

She nearly laughs again, except for the way that Mingyu is looking at her, fucked-out and pleading, lips pressed in a neat pout. 

“Yeah, ok,” is what she says instead. The words sound casual, but the way she brings Mingyu back for a hungry kiss is anything but. Her body says what her words will not.

They maneuver themselves easily, Hansol laying down on her back to watch Mingyu lay flat, not unlike a sniper. He takes his time, biting into her hipbones, nudging her legs further apart, and licking a broad stripe up through her folds. 

Hansol doesn’t scream, but it’s close. Mingyu puffs a breath against one of her thighs and gets to it, teasing with his tongue and two of his fingers. Hansol feels molten. The slow curl of heat in her stomach winds tighter and she curls her fingers through his hair. 

She pulls, just a little, and he moans, the vibration humming through her. It doesn’t take long with how wound up she is. Mingyu curls two fingers up into her, sucks on her clit, and she’s coming into his eager mouth, pleasure lighting her up tip to toe.

It’s a slow trip down, and Hansol lets herself savor in the way her limbs have gone loose, the entire world liquid. Mingyu pulls himself up and retrieves the wet cloth, running it between her legs. He tosses it with the towel into her laundry basket.

Hansol smiles at him, the way his expression has gone smug and even more satisfied—her pleasure is his as well. They fit together easily beneath the sheets, one of Hansol’s arms thrown over Mingyu’s waist.

Just before they fall asleep, Hansol reaches up to run a hand through his hair. “Congratulations again. You worked hard for this.”

“Champions until next season,” Mingyu murmurs. Hansol can’t see his face, but she can hear the slow smile in his voice.

“I’ll be cheering you on,” Hansol says. It’s as much a promise as a statement. 

Next year, they can celebrate that win, too.


End file.
